The Sorting Hat Series
by Grevola
Summary: Ten drabbles looking at how ten characters from GW get sorted at Hogwarts. Maybe not what you expect. Xover, some spoilers for Ep. Zero, no pairings. As seen on gw500.
1. Barton, Trowa

Note: A friend of mine challenged me to write a Harry Potter/Gundam Wing crossover, so I did a series of drabbles. There will be more fics in this universe here and there as I write them. If these look like something you read on gw500, or another LJ com, it's probably because they are :P

-_-_-_-_-

**The Sorting Hat Series: Trowa Barton**

He hadn't had a name, at least not a proper name, when the letter arrived. The school called him John Doe, to call him something, but the letter had been addressed to "The Boy With No Name, Third Bunk, Barton Working School For Lost Boys". He'd figured it was, at best, a cruel joke and destroyed it. A few more like it had arrived, but they all wound up in the incinerator. After that, a woman in a tartan dress and a rather severe bun had shown up to explain things. She had spoken with him quite frankly, and then offered him formally his place at the school. He spent a long time just looking at her, weighing her up without giving anything away. And then he'd nodded. She'd insisted that he couldn't attend classes as "The Boy With No Name", it wouldn't do. So he'd decided to call himself Trowa Barton. Trowa because he liked the sound of it, Barton because he couldn't think of anything better. Then he changed into the one set of clothing not owned by the orphanage, stored the tools he used in the vocational classes, and left the Barton School as easily as he'd arrived.

And now he was standing in a line of other children, at the front of the largest room he had ever seen, waiting for them to do some funny ceremony with a trick hat. He wondered if he should have paid more attention on the train ride, but he'd been tired from the long trip to London and he'd slept in one of the small cars with a few other like minded students. He watched dispassionately as a girl in front of him was declared a Hufflepuff and made her way to a table filled with cheering faces. Another student, this one a Ravenclaw, and now his turn.

The hat was heavier than it looked, and he caught himself thinking that velvet always was, before he put it on. It came down and rested just barely on his ears. And then there was the voice, like rustling velvet or old brocade.

_An interesting mind here,_ the hat said, _I see you don't have any preconceived notions of where you belong._

He didn't bother answering, as it seemed fairly self evident.

_You're good with animals, I see, that's usually a Hufflepuff quality. There's no history of a wizarding family in you. But over here there's quite a bit of ruthlessness. An absolutely amazing amount, actually. It's quite unusual in some one so young. Oh well, there's nothing for it-_

"Slytherin!" The hat shouted.

He didn't smile, or grimace or even shrug at the declaration. It didn't mean anything to him. He just took off the hat, and joined the other students at the green and silver table on the far end of the hall who were cheering loudly on principal.


	2. Catalonia, Dorothy

**The Sorting Series: Dorothy Catalonia**

Her family had been wizards on both sides for untold generations. There were even rumors that she was defended from the creators of the strange and powerful magics of the Kabbalah. And those few who had not come into wizarding power had always held positions of power and importance in the Muggle world. For years she had thought she would be attending Beuxbatons, if she didn't end up going to the family school in Girona. But then her grandfather had decided to quit the continent and move to England just before the start of the school year. There had been unsettling rumors, and her cousins the Malfoys were most uneasy.

And now she was following after some no-name mudblood who had some how managed to get accepted to the fine house of Slytherin, where her grandfather had assured her she would be sorted. The entire process seemed needlessly tedious, however she smiled demurely as she settled on the stool, and tried settle the filthy old hat on her head with a minimum of actual contact.

_Well well, another one,_ the hat said.

_Another what? _She asked.

_It's an unusual split. You're very loyal. Exceedingly loyal to your family in fact. I can see you would be quite willing to do anything for them._

_Loyalty to your family is not a sin_, she sneered.

_No, not at all,_ the hat agreed. _But one doesn't often see some one suited to both the Hufflepuff and Slytherin traditions._

_Hufflepuff? I think not!_ She was shocked it'd even been suggested.

_Are you sure? There is a great deal to be admired in those who are known for their loyalty. And Hufflepuffs never want for allies._

She considered this for a long moment, _Would being part of this silly house change my ability to follow my own goals?_

The hat considered this for a moment, _No, probably not. Though you're quite well suited to Slytherin as well. Really, the choice is yours._

She considered it for a very long time, long enough that she could hear the other students in the hall shifting around and muttering to each other.

_Alright, I've made up my mind_, she said at last.

"Hufflepuff!" The hat shouted.

And Dorothy Catalonia smiled at the cheery faces around the table all decked in yellow. And she thought _Like a wolf descending on the sheep in the fold._


	3. Chang, Wufei

**The Sorting Hat Series: Wufei Chang**

In his opinion, attending a boarding school was bad enough. Having to attend one in England of all places, simply because his cousin was already attending and her family raved about the head master, was even worse. But if Chang Wufei was certain of one thing, it was that he wasn't going to let some inferior Western school get in the way of his education.

He glanced behind him in line at a commotion further along the alphabet. Oh, he should have guessed. He wouldn't let _her_ get in his way either. Even if he was supposed to be keeping her out of trouble. He turned to face forward when his name was called. At a gesture from Professor McGonagall he walked sedately toward the uncomfortable looking stool, ignoring the cheers coming from his cousin's table. The hat smelled of dust and mothballs, and he only barely managed not to sneeze as he put it on.

_Hmm... A nice organized mind here,_ the hat said.

_Thank you,_ he thought back carefully. He wondered if there was a protocol for speaking to English headgear.

_A protocol?_ The hat sounded like it was laughing, _No, not that I've ever found. However, I will thank you for making my job easier. _

And then the hat was shouting "Ravenclaw!" And Wufei made his way with dignity to the blue table, where he was greeted excitedly by his cousin and her house-mates. Now there was only the small question of where Meiran would get herself sorted. He found himself making a quick request to his ancestors, hoping she would be in any house but his. _But Slytherin for preference,_ he thought, _because she'd look really ridiculous in green!_


	4. Darlian, Relena

**The Sorting Hat Series: Relena Darlian**

The very first thing Relena Darlian had done when she arrived at Hogwarts proper, after getting off the boat and such, was to correct the school records of her name. She had been quite adamant, and after some consideration the Deputy Head Mistress had given in. She didn't have anything against the name "Peacecraft", it was a fine wizarding name from the Continent, but it wasn't _her_ name. She was a Darlian, and quite proud of it, thank you.

A few other students had overheard the conversation, and she could hear the whispers and rumors starting and running rampant around the crowded entry room. _Harry Potter_, some of the rumors said. _Peacecraft! _said others. _Catalonia! Malfoy!_ All big wizarding names, all important and well respected. It seemed half their class was made up of some one famous for some reason or other. Personally, she was delighted to hear there would be a Weasley in her year, though she hadn't found him yet. Her father was a diplomat deeply involved in Muggle relations, and he'd always had wonderful things to say about the Weasley family.

But if her insistence on using her proper name had maybe alienated a few students who didn't understand why anyone _wouldn't_ want to be a Peacecraft, it had also moved her ahead in the sorting line. So she was glad she hadn't had to wait overly long for her name to be called. She couldn't help a smile as she lifted the hat, and imagined her own mother and father doing the same years before.

_Hufflepuff, am I right?_ She asked in excitement.

The hat laughed, _ Hufflepuff? Hardly, for a girl like you. No my dear, you have great things ahead of you. Truly great things. And for that, you'll need to be a _"Gryffindor!"

Relena was quite in a daze, and nearly forgot to remove the hat before she left the dais for her house table. _Gryffindor_? she asked herself. What on Earth could that mean?


	5. Long, Meiran

**The Sorting Hat Series: Meiran Long**

If there was anything in the world worse than being sent off to boarding school, it was being sent off to boarding school in England because that's where her _ugh_ "betrothed" was going. She'd been quite furious about the whole thing until she'd learned that they let women ride brooms and play Quddich at Hogwarts. _That_, at least, sounded like something worth doing. Especially because they didn't have martial magical arts competitions. Learning those were forbidden had been the absolute worst news yet. Well, that and being told she had to mind Chang.

And the boy two behind her in line was being quite annoying. Who did he think he was? A _Malfoy_? Was that supposed to mean anything to her? She was the heir to the Long clan, who had been wizards, mages and shamans since the Shang Dynasty, and she was the strongest mage they had produced in seven generations. _His_ family had probably still been clubbing each other in caves or something. It wasn't _her_ fault he couldn't handle the truth.

She'd felt rather put out when the horrible smelly man patrolling up and down the line had scolded both of them, but fortunately that was over, and she would be getting sorted next.

The hat itself was a bit disappointing, now that she could see it up close. It was dusty, and old and frayed. But it was a relic, and a tradition, and she had seen some of the tools her ancestors were said to have used. Hardly poems of line and grace, but quite effective. So she settled the hat on her head without sneering at the whole ordeal and waited for it to decide what to do with her.

_Hmm..._ it said. And for a long moment that was it.

She waited patiently as long as she could stand it, and then she nearly shouted the thought, _Well?!_

_Oh, nothing. Just comparing you to the Chang boy. It'd make a interesting study. I don't suppose the two of you could come by for a few weeks?_

_Certainly not!_ She snarled. _Does this have anything to do with what house I belong in?_

_No, not at all. You're a Gryffindor, through and through._

She sighed,_ Then will you kindly tell every one _else? _My backside is going numb._

_Oh all right. You're sure about the study?_

She tried to fry the hat with her thoughts.

_Thought not,_ it said wistfully, then it finally shouted: "Gryffindor!"


	6. Maxwell, Duo

**The Sorting Hat Series: Duo Maxwell**

When mail call had come through the Juvenile Detention Facility, Duo Maxwell usually took the opportunity for a quick doze, or to plot out his next plan to piss off the guards. What he _hadn't_ expected was for some one to hand him a letter that wasn't from a lawyer or court. A couple of the other boys had given him shit for the fancy paper and writing, so he'd asked to open it in private. Which meant just him and a guard, in case it had any kind of contraband. The only thing more surprising than the arrival of the letter had been what was inside it. A list of _school supplies_? Either this was the world's most elaborate practical joke, or some one was seriously crazy.

He was visited by an old man in a ratty tweed suit a week later who explained that the letter wasn't a joke. And he knew about the weird things. The strange things that always happened when he was angry or upset. When the church had been attacked, and the bullets turned away, and the fire didn't hurt him. The man had spent an uncomfortable hour just watching him, after they'd talked things over. And Duo still wasn't sure what he'd been looking for, or if he'd found it, but now he was standing in line waiting to put a funky old hat on his head and be told his fate.

He hoped the damn thing didn't have lice. That'd be a bitch to get out of his hair.

Then it was his turn, and he perched on the seat, barely, and dropped the hat over his ears. _Well! Today seems to be a day of portent,_ The hat said.

_What? Is the school going to burn down around me or something?_

The hat laughed it's rich, felty laugh, _No, nothing like that. But you are an interesting young man. Very driven._

_So? _The feeling that some one was rummaging through his head was quite disturbing.

_You could do very well in Gryffindor, you've shown you're very brave on many occasions. However, you could become quite powerful as a Slytherin._

_ You mean I get a choice?_ He was surprised. He'd been told that, with his particular back ground, he'd be under strict observation. He figured that meant they'd try and control every second of his life, just like prison.

_In a manner of speaking, all life is a choice._

He thought for a moment, _Slytherin then. I'm sick of being powerless._

_Slytherin it is!_ The hat said, and then announced the sorting to the rest of the room.


	7. Noventa, Sylvia

**The Sorting Hat Series: Sylvia Noventa**

That summer, not long after the letter from Beauxbatons had arrived, there had been a rather unsettling meeting in Sylvia Noventa's home. Her grandfather had welcomed several people to their small villa outside of Marseilles, and they had spoken behind closed doors for several hours. Finally, and much to her surprise, she had been asked to join the meeting. Her grandfather had sat in his large armchair glowering and saying nothing. But it had been the kindly old wizard with the half-moon spectacles who had asked her how she felt about the opportunity to go to school at Hogwarts, in England.

She hadn't thought about it, really. Oh, she'd considered asking to go to the Scoula Famiglia in Sicily, but her aunt had forbid it as soon nearly as she'd brought it up. And the idea of going to school with Dorothy Catalonia, who was almost certainly going to join her friend Fleur at Beuxbatons was completely unappealing. So she had said that she'd love the opportunity to broaden her horizons. The old wizard with the spectacles had smiled quite genuinely, and told her that a place was being made for her at the school.

And now she was at the school, in this cold, damp and dark country, making her way to the stool, and letting the hat settle on her head. And on top of everything else, Dorothy was at Hogwarts anyway.

_My, my, _the hat said_, you've definitely got an aptitude for charms. And you tend to think things through very carefully I see_.

_Er, yes. Th__ank you,_ she said. She wasn't at all sure what was expected of her.

_There's some power here, but you'll never be one for earth shattering displays of magic I'm afraid. No, you're much more suited to smaller, more fiddly tasks. And you've a good dose of curiosity, so you'd better be in _"Ravenclaw!"

And that was all. She stood almost too quickly, and made her way over to the table decked in blue. She took a seat next to another of the first years, a Chinese boy with glasses who greeted her in polite but accented English, "It is nice to meet you. I'm Wufei Chang."

She smiled, "I'm Sylvia Noventa. It is a pleasure."


	8. Schbeiker, Hilde

**The Sorting Hat Series: Hilde Schbeiker**

Hilde hated, absolutely _hated_, her last name. No one could spell it. Even fewer people could say it right. And it meant she was always at the end of the roll and had to wait for nearly every one else to go ahead. She wasn't sure which house she was more sick of hearing, but then things seemed fairly evenly distributed. Finally she decided it didn't much matter, because whatever house she was going to be in she was going to be a wizard when she was done. And that was what was most important of all.

Her main thought though, as she settled on the uncomfortable stool and let them put the hat on her head, was that her feet hurt and she was hungry. Her aunt had been so upset about her going off to a _wizarding_ school (because magic was a sin, and God would not suffer a witch, even if she went to the Synagogue every Saturday and could recite the book of Esther by heart) that she hadn't packed her a lunch. Her uncle had been much more understanding and had given her some spending money before she got on the train, but the snacks she'd bought had been a long time ago, and Hilde was ready for some proper food.

Once the hat was settled she heard its dusty, felty voice whispering in her head, _Well, we've got a definite stubborn streak here. Very determined, yes, and a reasonable helping of raw talent._

_How long will this take?_ She asked, _I'm starving._

The hat seemed to laugh, like rustling brocade, _Not long, I don't think. You've got some interesting reasons for wanting to be a witch._

_A _wizard_, _she insisted, _it's bad enough I'm here, I don't have to make my aunt any less happy about it._

There was another round of the rustling chuckling, and the hat said, _well, miss wizard, I think you'll do very well in _"Hufflepuff!"


	9. Winner, Quatre

**The Sorting Hat Series: Quatre Winner**

Quatre Reberba Winner was completely disinterested in the entirety of the sorting ceremony. His name, which usually opened so many doors for him, was completely useless at getting him through alphabetical proceedings any more quickly. And he wasn't at all sure how he felt about attending a wizarding school in England. Those sisters of his who had displayed magical talent had been sent to schools all over the world, some as far away as the Uyariy Wasi in Peru. And his father had decided he should go to Hogwarts, in cold and dismal England, without so much as a brief consultation with him on the matter. Typical.

He remained wrapped in his apathy as he finally made his way across the platform, and let the stupid tatty old hat be put on his head. Let the hat put him wherever it wanted, it wasn't as though it would make any difference. If he did poorly his father could just commission another child and try again. Or turn things over to any of his twenty nine sisters. _They_ were all graduated and off doing successful work as research witches, or healers or purveyors of rare materials or whatever. His father hardly needed yet _another_ successful child to keep track of. It would only make boasting at parties that much more tedious.

The hat seemed to grumble to itself for a while, as Quatre sat wrapped in his own bitter thoughts. _You're an interesting one,_ it said at last, _unique really. You could do well in any of the houses, if you wanted._

_I don't much care what house you put me in. It doesn't really matter._

The hat seemed to smirk, even though he couldn't feel it shift in any way, much less see what it was doing. _That's an interesting thought. Quite arrogant, really. Do you expect everyone to follow you about? Well, of course people will follow you. Oh yes, they will most certainly follow _you.

Quatre didn't bother to respond. The hat was clearly as senile and insane as the headmaster at this stupid foreign school.

_Hmm, yes, you'll need to get used to that though, won't you? Well, you'd spend too much time alone as a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw. And Hufflepuff really won't suit if you wish to lead. So unless there are any objections, you'll be in Slytherin._

_ Really, _Quatre repeated, _ I don't care._

The hat seemed to laugh as it called out:"Slytherin!"

And so Quatre settled himself at the far end of the Slytherin table, across from a tall, brown haired boy who was sitting quietly and not speaking to any of the other students, and next to a boy with a long braid and a very dangerous, almost angry look in his eyes. Another first year from further up the table introduced himself as Draco Malfoy.

"Quatre Winner," he said without any enthusiasm.

The other blond raised a pale eyebrow and extended an elegant hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Quatre."


	10. Yui, Hiiro

**Hiiro Yui**

He hadn't known what name he would be enrolled under, until Jei-onmyoji had given him the name of the late onmyoji Hiiro Yui and given him the port key to Kings Cross Station in England. He'd spent the past two years as Jei's ward and apprentice, studying under him at the Onmyo Ryo. That was until the fortune casting they had performed at the beginning of the previous summer. There had been no doubting the reading. In order to avert a great disaster, Hiiro would need to travel all the way to England, and be enrolled at the Hogwarts School where he was to protect a boy called Harry Potter. Of course, the reading was characteristically silent on the nature of the disaster, or what precisely he would be protecting this boy _from_. But Hirro had not been one refuse an order of this type, so he had packed his scrolls and his robes, and arrived punctually on the platform 9¾ on the indicated day.

And now, rather than an exam or a fortune casting to determine the most beneficial arrangement of the students, they were being asked to wear a hat. It wasn't even a proper hat, stiff and rectangular and deeply black. It was old, and floppy, and might once have been pointed before it crumpled in on itself. He wondered what sort of spirit inhabited the sorting hat as it settled on his messy hair and slipped over his eyes.

_How curious!_ The hat said, _this shall be a most interesting year, yes indeed._

_Yes, hat-san_, he thought. He had been taught to observe all formalities when dealing with possessed objects, as there was no telling what sort of spirit or demon might inhabit them. He tried to keep his impatience at using an honorific with an old lumpy hat deeply buried.

_Well, there's certainly a great deal of drive here. And leadership. You could lead armies, nations even, if you wanted to._

_No thank you, hat-san_, the idea of being responsible for so many people, people who would not be sensible or thankful, made him shudder. He'd prefer to simply do exorcisms and rebalancings, the protective magics that meant he wouldn't have to bother with people.

_Hmm, yes, I can see that. There's a great deal of power here though. More than I think you realize, Hiiro Yui. And you will need a good quest to focus you, yes. For that, you'll do best in _"Gryffindor!"

That was at least convenient, he thought. He would be in the same house and classes as the Potter boy. He picked the dark haired boy out of the crowd at the cheering table, and fixed his features into his mind until he had to sit down between a Chinese girl and a blond girl with innocent blue eyes.

The blond girl smiled at him as he sat down, "Hello, my name is Relena Dorlian, what's yours?"


End file.
